The Autobiography of a Brook

You've visited me after a long time: Remember; once, I was brimming with might? Named babbling brook, revered as a singing deity, how blissful was my sight! Have reminiscences of your childhood, in my mellow abode." "Might be pondering: why I look so barren, with no traces of aesthetic shine left? Wailing! How the amenity of my native region collapsed with my declining diminishing plight!" "Grieve not that once I was such a beautiful soul, as ascended from heaven to touch the telluric vegetations! I recall, you drew my picturesque portrait, warbling among lush pastures, with mellifluous rhymes, glancing among grassy paddocks! " "You plucked the wild flowers from the meadows, made garlands to wonder like a wood nymph! How crystal was my flow, even you had the glimpse of your own shadow!" "Can't forget by sitting on my rubbles, pony tailing, you took me as your mirror! You put your hand to touch the floating colourful fishes as springing with my rhythm! " "I enriched the flora and fauna of the terrain, whoever came in my course to rejoice with my luminous flow!" "Like a serpent, I took ample curves and luscious textures to allure! Bedazzled by my sight, the joyous kids ran miles, only to wonder where I recline!" "Elated by their innocence, I blessed them with my crystal beams! Neither they, nor you while quenching thirst, failed to applaud my pristine beads!" "Such spontaneous I was, wondering down the sloping meadows to struck the pebbles, the faded pebbles, rejuvenated with myriads of colours, once I started my euphonic fusion!" "My sweetness rolled over your senses, you owe me as sacred drops! Now I taste sour: crumbling, with no vestige of sweetness left! I worth mere elegy now; I exclaim, the erudite folly, 'Can you substitute my purity?" "Gone are the resonances of those euphonious odes; those mellow strains of glee! Still you whisper that from impaired eyes, my meagre counterparts may survive in far-flung valleys!" "You replete me with hope to save them, if fortunate to wonder like a vagabond hither and thither on those remote regions! Plea to convey my dictum, earth's sacred water will extinct soon, tenderly treat it as boon!" "You may pen my aching tale; may revive me with the aid of the waking conscience of the folk of the adjacent thorp! "Never say adieu!" adorable: waiting to come alive with your help: to be the epithet, 'the babbling Brook,' the euphonic cynosure again. All Rights Reserved © SILPIKA KALITA